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Mor

“Bo Folan, I am attracted to you.”

I’m not a coy person.

Nor am I secretive.

I’m forthright, and I would rather deal with Bo’s clear rejection than the hazy possibility of him not feeling the same.

I’m an information seeker, and even if the answer is not what I would like, I still want to know it so I never have to doubt.

Bo’s emotional grid flashes Technicolor as his face goes slack.

I do my best to press my magical insight away, not wanting to intrude on his private thoughts without his consent.

“Physically,” I clarify.

“Though the attraction arose from an emotional place first. Basically, I trust you, and that has now allowed me to desire you.” I gather my hair in a bun, then let it fall back down when I realize I don’t have a hairband on me.

“At least I think that’s how it works. I’m kind of feeling this out for myself at the moment too. But however it came about, I am now—officially—attracted to you.”

His eyes are focused on my hair, which I’m now twining around my fingers because I need to do something with my hands.

“What?” He mutters the question, voice so low that I get the sense he’s more asking himself.

Still, I’m now committed to being up front.

“I am telling you this because it’s only gotten more intense. I would like to do something about my attraction.”

He frowns.

“What?”

“I want to act on it. With you. If that sounds appealing.” Gods, this is sounding more like a job interview than when I first hired him.

Which brings me to an important point.

“To be clear, you can absolutely tell me no. This will have no bearing on your employment at the library. And I will do my best to direct my feelings elsewhere.”

He gapes at me.

“What?”

Frustration pricks at me.

“I get that this might be slightly surprising, but could you please attempt a response other than what ? It’s overused at this point.”

Bo blinks at me, swallows hard, then asks, “Are you making fun of me?”

Now it’s my turn to gape.

“What?”

Oh no, it’s a what disease, and I’ve caught it.

“My … my obvious crush on you,” he says.

“And you … you’re so much smarter than me. And so fucking gorgeous that I swear my eyes will start bleeding when I see you.”

Oh.

Well … that’s possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me while simultaneously being a little too graphic.

“This is not a joke,” I assure Bo, encouraged by his comments.

“I’ve never figured out how to flirt. Never saw a reason to try. So, I’m just going to say, I’d like to do sex things with you if you’d also like to do sex things with me.”

Damn The Dark One’s plans.

Sex things? Could I not have found at least a slightly more seductive way of phrasing it?

Problem is, Bo is staring at me.

Hard. And the undivided attention from the first man I’ve found physically attractive in …

well, ever, is making my brain a little mushy.

“I …” He trails off, clears his throat, then says, “I would like to do sex things with you too.”

Doubt is thick in his voice.

“You don’t sound sure about that.” I do my best to keep disappointment hidden, not wanting to guilt him into an encounter.

He shakes his head slowly, and my hope dips further.

“I’m sure I want to. I’m not sure this is reality though.”

“Oh.” I feel better now.

And very horny. “It is. I assure you.”

With a quick step forward, I poke his side, and he gasps when I hit what must be a ticklish spot.

“Now, here is what I propose.” I point to his pants.

“You take those off.” I point to the chair.

“You sit there.” I point to my mouth.

“I suck your dick until you come or tell me to stop.”

He’s gaping again, and I have the unfamiliar urge to nibble on his bottom lip.

“What?”

We’re back to the what s.

“Here’s the thing. I’ve had sex before, but it was a kind of go-through-the-motions thing. At some point, my body got on board simply because of stimulation. So, I want to just take some time stimulating you and see how I react to that. Physically. Does that make sense?”

“Not really. But I’m an idiot so …” He shrugs.

Ice encases my libido.

“Bo,” I say carefully, fury shivering through my body, “I know people have called you that in the past. People you cared about.” I step in close and place my hands on the sides of his face, making sure he doesn’t duck his head and avoid my eyes.

“But you will never say that about yourself again. You do not insult my friend.”

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“O-okay.”

“It’s okay if you don’t understand something. There’s no shame in learning.”

He nods, his stare vulnerable, and the ice of my anger—directed at the world who misused this man—fades to the back of my mind as the heat of wanting him returns.

“And how do you feel about the scenario I outlined? Me using my mouth on you.”

“Good,” he grunts.

“Very good.”

Eager joy lights up yellow at the edges of my sight, little fireworks of my own emotions.

“Do you want to take your clothes off? Or do you want me to?”

“Whatever you want,” he gasps.

I trace the edges of his stubble with my thumbs.

“Whatever we want.”

“You. If you’d enjoy it.”

I smile.

“I think I would.” My hands drop to the top button of his flannel and pause.

“If you ever want me to stop, just say so, and I will.”

“Same. With me.”

“Agreed.” And I start slipping buttons free, eager to discover more of his body.

True, I saw every last inch of his that first night.

But I didn’t care about his form back then.

He was a stranger I didn’t quite trust. There was no attraction.

No curiosity past wanting to know who had been trapped.

Tonight, it’s like I’m discovering him again, and I’m panting for it.

The flannel is soft under my fingers, his skin smooth but for the slight brush of burnished blond chest hair.

Now that Bo has agreed to this, I plan to give in to any physical urge I have, wanting to take full advantage of this attraction.

As his chest is revealed, I lean forward, nuzzling my nose into the little hairs, then sliding sideways to lick the flat disk of his nipple.

Bo’s breath catches, and his heavy hands settle on my hips.

But he doesn’t push me away or tell me to stop, so I keep going.

When the shirt is undone, I guide it off his shoulders so it pools on the floor.

A puddle of fabric on the wood floor.

This monster, who took care of the house that hurt him.

Now I want to return the favor, even though this truly feels like a gift to myself.

The old leather of his belt slides free, as smooth as melted butter.

My fingers struggle some with the button of his fly, and without my realizing it, the frustration manifests in me biting his pec.

I release my hold.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize for any of this.” Bo’s voice is a needy rasp.

When I glance up, his expression is so stark that I can’t help but see the red of desire and canary yellow of eagerness weaving thick blankets in his emotional grid.

I blink the magic away, only wanting to look at him.

The button slips free, and I carefully unzip his fly and push his jeans and boxers down his legs, fingers coasting over the firm globes of his ass.

Bo’s breathing accelerates as his erection juts forth, brushing the cotton of my sweater.

“Sit down,” I tell him, palms flat on his chest, directing him toward the chaise lounge.

As always, Bo does what he’s told.

He sits back, hands fisted on his thighs, chest expanding with deep breaths as he gazes up at me.

His cock is thick, the tip of him an almost-angry red with the increased blood flow.

My mouth waters at the thought of sucking on him.

Never in my life have I gotten turned on by the idea of giving a man head.

I wasn’t repulsed by the idea.

Just uninterested.

Now though, I am full of erotic fascination.

Sensual curiosity. I want to research every inch of this monster with my tongue.

And that’s why, after I settle on my knees between his spread thighs, I don’t immediately direct my attention to his lap.

Instead, I reach out and take hold of his left forearm, pulling one of his white-knuckled fists to me.

“Mor …”

I pause. “Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no.”

Carefully, I guide his fingers straight, then spread them until the webbing between each digit is stretched tight.

And I lick the warm, delicate skin, laving affection and fascination on this vulnerable area.

Bo gasps, his hips rocking with each pass of my tongue.

“Gods,” he mutters. “You’re gonna kill me. With just your sweet mouth on my hands. Hell …”

His head drops back, and as I give the same affection to his right hand, I enjoy the salty taste of him while watching the muscles strain in his neck and down his torso.

All the while, my panties grow damp, and my excitement at knowing that I’m physically turned on by Bo only makes me hotter.

Throughout my webbed-finger sucking, his dick twitches and jerks, pre-cum beading on the slit and starting to drip down the mushroom-shaped head.

I want to know what that part of him tastes like too.

I set his now-relaxed hands back on his thighs and lean forward.

A thick vein runs from the base to the tip, and I trace that easy-to-follow guide with my tongue until I reach his juice.

Then I encircle the flared head with my lips and suck.

“Ah!” Bo barks out the guttural exclamation and reaches back to grab hold of the ornate wooden frame of the chaise.

As if he’s afraid his body might float off the couch.

No need for him to worry though because I strap him in with my body.

I drape my arms over his thighs and slip my hands between his ass and the cushions, loving the feel of his clenching glutes against my palms.

Once his member is in my mouth, I see no reason to ever let him leave.

He’s all warm and savory.

Fun to lick and suck.

I experiment with how much of Bo I can fit in my mouth—which is not too much, unfortunately.

A deep-throater I am not.

But he seems plenty pleased with the inches I manage from the words he babbles out.

“Gods. Holy fucking gods. Your-your mouth … I’ll die. I’ll die if you stop, Mor. Gods, I want more. I want you Mor. Always. Always, Mor.”

Then he continues to chant, either my name or a direction for me to give him more.

Either way, I’m happy to oblige, sucking harder, humming my happiness at how much I’m enjoying this activity, then letting out little moans when I press my thighs together and envision him sinking this same dick inside me.

Goddess, I can’t wait.

And knowing that I want to have sex, that I’m eager for it, has me grinning wide when I let Bo slip out of my mouth.

He stares down at me over his sweat-slicked chest that rises and falls rapidly, his eyes wide with bewilderment, like he still can’t believe this is happening.

“Do you want to come in my mouth? Because I also want to ride you. No pressure, but I’ve never orgasmed with another person before, but I think you could get me there, Bo.”